Stuck in the Walls - SYOT
by Tumbleweeds
Summary: The 31st Annual Hunger Games, a SYOT story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer, we don't, nor will we ever, claim to own the Hunger Games, that right belongs to Suzanne Collins.

Please submit all tributes in via PM. **Tributes submitted in review, no matter how awesome,** **will not be used**. Also, leave the name you wish to be credited under along with your submission, so we can keep track of who sent which tribute. Multiple submissions are allowed, however please send them in one at a time. Another note, please put sections like personality, background and fears in as much detail as possible. Thanks.

**We are still looking for a district 4 female, a district 4 male, a district 11 male and a district 12 male. If you plan on submitting a tribute to 1 or 4 they MUST be 18. If you want to submit to 11 or 12, younger tributes are the most preferred.**

_(Please note certain aspects may have to be adapted in order to fit in with the story, or if parts of the tribute are too similar to another)_

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Preferred District(s):

Appearance:

Personality:

Family and Friends:

Background:

Fears/ Phobias:

Strengths (5):

Weaknesses (5):

Reaped or volunteered? If volunteered, why? (Districts 1, 2 and 4 are acceptable reasons to volunteer):

Reaction:

Token:

Would they partake in the bloodbath?

Willing to form alliances?

Extra notes (interview angle, opinion of the capitol, outfits etc.):

**A full list of the tributes will be posted after the reaping's are completed. However, if your tribute is chosen we will try to message you and let you know as soon as possible.**


	2. District 7 Reapings

"Oi, shrimp, it's time to get up." Blearily Alto opened his eyes, grunting in complaint. His sister was leaning in the doorway with her arms folded, waiting for him to get out of bed. Instead, he moaned loudly, rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, willing sleep to reclaim him quickly. He heard his sister growl in frustration and stomp towards him.

"I said get up!" His warm cocoon of blankets was ripped away, allowing the cold air to invade. Alto groaned again, mumbling complaints into his pillow. Reluctantly, he prised his face from the pillow where a small pool of drool had formed. His speech was still slurred with tiredness when he managed to mumble, "What the heck, Aria? It's way too early."

"It's the reapings today, you idiot. You forgot, didn't you?"

He paused for a few moments, as his mind slowly registered the information. "Yeah…"

"Well, get up. You've still got three years of this bullshit left. Lucky you."

"Shut up…" He whined, hauling himself into a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. Aria, he noticed, was already dressed and tidy looking, with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a plain green smock hanging off her thin frame.

"You're just grumpy because I don't have to worry about them any more," she teased, "Now hurry up; otherwise you're going to be late." With a playfully accusing look, she leaves the room and Alto lets out a sigh. He really couldn't be bothered with the reapings, especially today. He'd slept badly that night, plagued by nightmares, and wanted nothing more than to curl back up and try and catch up on his sleep. Not an option, unfortunately. He slid out of bed, whining audibly as his feet touched the cold wood.

He got ready sluggishly, throwing on some smart looking trousers and an off-white shirt and patting his brown curls down in a futile attempt to make them look tidier. Whatever. He supposed it didn't really matter what he looked like, it was unlikely he'd get reaped anyway. After all, Aria had made it through the reapings so there was no reason he couldn't as well. He yawns loudly, and stumbles out of his room in search of breakfast.

* * *

Acacia's laughter was probably the last thing the people of district seven expected to hear on reaping day. Yet, there she was, bent over with laughter while Cedric, her best friend, stood there looking unimpressed. "It's really not that funny, Cia..."

"You look like a clown," she managed to croak, tears streaming down her face, as she leant on her knees. Poor Cedric. His mother had put together a special reaping outfit for him, including a pale yellow shirt, blue and green pinstripe trousers and a polka dot bow tie. Apparently, when he'd refused to wear it his mother had cried so he'd been left with little choice in the matter. Acacia thought this made the situation even more hilarious. "Yeah, I know. Can we just get going already?" He chewed at his lip, pulling at already sore flesh. "People are staring." Acacia managed to nod and stifle her laugh. The pair of them walked slowly, enjoying the forest air.

"You feeling okay?" Acacia asked gently. "Yeah... Just reaping nerves, I guess." Her eyes watched him with a look of brief empathy, but it was soon replaced as they neared the central square.

"Me too."

"We'll be okay. Kids from seven are tough." Acacia nodded, smiling slightly. That was certainly true.

"We are."

When they reached the central square, there was already a line of people waiting to enter the pens. Acacia and Cedric shuffled to the back. Using Cedric as a support, Acacia's strong frame making Cedric's skinnier one buckle slightly under her strength, she stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck, looking around for her older brothers. "Can you see them anywhere, Ced?"

"Ash and Spruce?"

"Yeah, they should be here by now." she glanced about, her eyes peering through the crowds milling around uncomfortably, eyes not picking out the figures of her brothers.

"Maybe they're already in there? I can't see the eighteen's pen from here." Acacia nodded and relaxed back down. They waited in silence until it was their turn. Their fingers were pricked and they both made their way over to the other sixteen year olds. It would begin soon. Acacia watched as the district seven escort wobbled across the stage. She realised, with some astonishment, that he was mimicking the walk of their last victor who had lost half of his foot in the games. Glancing around at the faces of the other citizens, it seemed that they thought the same as her. She caught a glimpse of the victor in question, who was just staring blankly ahead. She figured it wasn't the first time he'd seen this.

She listened absently as the escort delivered the same speech he gave every year and showed the same video that was shown at every reaping. Then it was time. With a flourish, the escort plucked a name from the girl's bowl and carefully unfolded it. He cleared his throat and called out,

"Acacia Wisteria." For a second, Acacia felt her heart stop. She looked over at Cedric, dread pooling in her chest. Then she steeled herself, held her head high and strode up to the stage. The cameras zoomed in to show the proud looking tribute from seven and she stepped onto the stage. Only Cedric saw how her hands trembled. After praising Acacia's bravery, the escort quickly moved on to the boys bowl. His hand dipped in and he pulled out a name.

"Alto Salsus!" Alto felt his life end right then and there. He stood, waiting. Waiting for somebody to volunteer for him. Nobody said a word. Sympathetic eyes watched him, but mouths stayed shut. Shakily, he stepped out of the cluster of fifteen year olds and walked slowly towards the stage. The escort said something about how lucky he was. Alto burst into tears.

Hundreds of eyes watched him bawling his eyes out, the only sound for miles around. All noise had ceased to watch him as he broke down on stage. For once in his life, he had no witty comeback, no answer and could see no hope for the future. He cried noisily for about a minute before managing to compose himself slightly.

Still sniffing, he turned and shook hands with Acacia.

* * *

**We are still looking for a district 4 female, a district 4 male, a district 11 male and a district 12 male. If you plan on submitting a tribute to 1 or 4 they MUST be 18. If you want to submit to 11 or 12, younger tributes are the most preferred. **

Special thanks to ClovelyLittleReader for sending in Acacia, we hope we're doing her justice!


	3. District 9 Reapings

District 9

Daze stepped out of her room and into the hall. With a shy smile, she twirled around so that the silk skirt of her dress flared out. Dash watched, entranced by the swirling green of her dress, before grinning at her and clapping. She giggled softly and bounded over to him, nuzzling into his chest. He held her tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Love you," he said and Daze replied with the familiar mumble of "I love you too." After a while they reluctantly prised themselves apart. Dash ran a hand through his hair, with a sigh.

"I have to go see my mom before the reapings start." Daze nodded, understanding. Dash's mother had been very sick for almost two years now. She was completely bedridden and had bouts of intense pain from time to time which usually left her unconscious. Dash earned enough to pay for a carer for his mother, but he still had to take care of his younger siblings by himself. Daze knew how exhausting it was for Dash and tried her best to support him.

"Want me to come with you?" She asked gently, affectionately rubbing his arm. He nodded wordlessly. Daze smiled reassuringly at him, looping her arm through his and leading him to the door. "It's gonna be okay, Dash. Try not to worry."

"Yeah—" He swallowed, "Yeah, I know. It's just… I dunno who will look after Nala and Shard if I get reaped."

"Well, I will, of course," Daze gazes up at Dash. He could see that she meant it. Overcome by how wonderful she was, he lent down and touched his lips to hers. Daze smiled against the kiss and returned the pressure. Breaking the kiss, Dash mumbles,

"We should get going. Mom will be waiting." With a small nod, Daze pulls away and nestles into his side. Quietly, they both leave the house, their reaping worries soothed simply by being together.

* * *

Rona glanced over at Scout, who sat beside with a distant expression on her face. They were both already dressed for the reapings and now sat on a wall near the square, waiting. Scout swung her legs aimlessly, staring over at the pens where she would have to go very soon. Rona reached over and patted the younger girl's hair. She tried to smile reassuringly at Scout as she said, "Don't worry, plenty of kids took more tesserae than you." Scout nodded, but still seemed troubled. Quietly, she asks,

"What if it's you, Rona?"

"It wouldn't be a big deal." She shrugged. Scout smacked her arm, her brow crinkled in annoyance.

"How can you say that? Of course it would!"

"Nah. It would get me off the streets, at least."

"Off the streets and in a coffin…" Scout's bottom lip jutted out in defiance. Rona sighed, visibly giving in. She tucked her arm around Scout and rested her chin on her head. She felt the girl's anger soften and Scout relaxed and nuzzled into her side.

"Let's just hope for the best, okay, kiddo?"

"Yeah." Soon, it was time to go. Rona hopped of the wall and helped Scout down. The girl was tiny, barely reaching Rona's shoulder. She smiled fondly at Scout and ruffled her blonde hair, causing her to yelp indignantly and hurry to fix it before they got to the line. While they queued, Rona pointed out Scout's parents in the crowd in an attempt to comfort the girl, who now looked as if she were about the throw up. Scout waved tentatively at them but they didn't seem to notice her. Eventually, they filtered into the square. Rona went to join the sixteen year olds and Scout shuffled into the pen for the thirteen year olds.

The crowd was silent as the escort strode across the stage, a tall imposing woman who always looked like she was eating something sour. She cleared her throat and made all of the announcements in a raspy voice. After the video had been played, she turned back to the crowd and with a smile that almost seemed cruel, dipped her hand into the girls bowl. With cold precision, she plucked a name from the bowl and called out, "Scout Jones." The silence seemed cavernous. Curious, concerned and relieved faces all peered at her. Her breathing became shaky as she stumbled out of her pen. Frantically, she looked around for Rona. In a crowd of seventeen year olds, Rona stood with her lips pressed in a grim line. She caught Scout's gaze and looked away, at the floor. Next to Rona, Dash squeezed Daze's hand. At least she was safe, he thought, nothing else mattered. Scout held back her tears as she stepped onto the stage. The escort did not fuss over her, as others are known to do, but quickly moved on to the other bowl.

Swiftly, she produced another name. She cleared her throat again and called out in a hoarse voice, "Dash Reed." Dash felt his heart sink. Daze began to cry. It took him a moment to remember how to use his legs. Slowly, he stepped out from the crowd. Daze sobbed and begged him not to. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as he made his way to the stage. He stepped onto the platform. The escort had him shake hands with Scout. He knew he should be frightened, but all he felt was empty.

* * *

**Thank you all for your continued interest in our story and we apologise that it's taking us so long to get these reapings done. We nearly have all of our tributes now, but we are still looking for a district 4 female, a district 4 male, a district 11 male and a district 12 male. If you plan on submitting a tribute to 1 or 4 they MUST be 18. If you want to submit to 11 or 12, younger tributes are the most preferred. **

**A special thanks to HighHeels4Me for submitting Dash and Scout!**


End file.
